#Hey2018

Menu

Food police. Not to be mistaken with the Dream Police.

My obsession with eating clean, getting in shape and losing weight has me on the verge of orthorexia nervosa.

I’m not quite there, but I can see this going down in a pretty ugly way. For the past two weeks, sticking to my exercise training plan and my food plan, I’ve become ridiculously fixated on righteous eating.

My life has begun to orbit around my food rules. When to eat, what to eat, how much to eat. Packing my lunch. Tupperware, Tupperware, more Tupperware. Sizable lunchbags to compete with those at a construction site. Chaos and mayhem if my carefully orchestrated menu is disrupted by the daily comings and goings of family, friends and work, God forbid. Cancel ALL social situations revolving around a meal/snack time, which is, really, ALWAYS unless you catch me in some lucky 2-hour window before my next broccoli break.

“I’m TRAINING,” was my answer. “How do you expect me to get in shape and lose weight if I make exceptions every five minutes??” If not the plan, my SHEER WILL will certainly burn fat.

And even worse, I was channeling not only my INNER critic but the words were marching to the edge of my tongue and preparing to dive off: “Um, you really shouldn’t eat that you know, because …. it’s full of sugar/fat/processed/etc.” Hello?? I’m the one with the weight problem, not them. Let them have their doughnuts, pizza, and ALL that dressing on the salad with the chicken that STILL. HAS. SKIN. P.S. Elevators are for sissies.

Time out. TIIIIIME OUT.

Musical interlude: And now I’m caught in a trap. I can’t walk out. Because I love you too much, baby. Why can’t you see? What you’re doing to me?

And THEN – so I allowed myself a rest day or two where I ate lasagna – and M&Ms (it’s like, if I’m not being very, very good, I’m simply being horrid) – and then felt the need to jump up and work all that off before it could settle gleefully onto that tire around my waist. Argh!

So. Yes, okay, I don’t really have orthorexia nervosa after only a week or so, but I get how easy it is to slip into the rut. I feel like I’m the food police and I’ve GOT to ease up..